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Penumbra
Penumbra is a story written by User:MatoranIrik, which takes place on the island of Kovokha Nui. Story Prologue At its best, the island of Kovokha Nui was a frigid wasteland, devoid of signs of any easily discernible form of life. At its worst, these qualities were raised tenfold, with harsh blizzards mauling the terrain constantly, and the temperature dropping so low that even the local Burnak, specially adapted for this environment, were forced to nestle up in their dens until the storms died down. You would not think anything would dare to live in this desolate landscape. And yet, even on this unforgiving island, life found a foothold, and scraped out an existence. If you knew where to look, you would find that it was teeming with life, in every nook and cranny, every plain and cave. In fact, if you were to look closely enough, you might have seen, in the storm, the blurred figures of two small Matoran, their bodies crooked and disfigured, trudging through the snow. Shining stones dangled from their necks, radiating heat to them on their journey. One of them, a Ba-Matoran, suddenly looked sharply to the left. There was a rock wall there, as he knew; for all of his several-thousand-year stay on the island, that rock wall had always been there. But this time, he noticed something else. On the wall, wedged in between two frozen bushes, there was a crack. Not the crack you would see on thin ice, which he had seen many times before; this was the crack of a door or a gate that had not been entirely closed, which he saw altogether very rarely, as the villagers were accustomed to make sure the doors to their huts were entirely closed, so as to keep whatever heat they could get inside and keep as much cold as they could outside. Needless to say, they stayed indoors most of the time. Curiosity aroused, the Ba-Matoran turned around and approached the opening. The door was frozen into its position, but with enough force, he found he was able to open it just enough that he would be able to slide inside. It was then that the other Matoran, a Ta-Matoran, looked up and noticed his companion's disappearance. Hearing the scraping among the howling blizzard, he turned around and saw the purple Matoran pulling at the stone door. “Somav, what do you think you're doing?” the Ta-Matoran asked, “Get back here. You know we need to return to the village.” “Oh, but Irik,” the Matoran of Gravity replied, almost bouncing with his usual excitement, “I've found some sort of cave! Come on, let's check it out!” Somav leapt into the opening in the wall, not bothering for one fraction of a moment to think about the consequences of doing so. Irik growled, fuming with rage, shivering in the cold wind all the while. If he had been any angrier with Somav in that moment, the ground below him might've begun to thaw. Why couldn't I go foraging with somebody else? He thought to himself. The answer hit him like an icy blast, shook him like the Great Cataclysm, as it had for thousands of years before: Because when you live on Kovokha Nui, you don't get what you want. Millennia ago, when Irik had been sent to Karzahni, he had thought that things couldn't get much worse than how they were: being experimented upon, torn apart, and put back together misshapen, malformed, and twisted. He was soon proven wrong when a boat bound for the Southern Continent was thrown off course by terrible sea currents, and he was marooned, with many others like him, on Kovokha Nui, the coldest rock this side of Destral. From the start, things had been tough. Food was scarce, and supplies were scarcer. Many Matoran refused to accept that they were stuck to live without the luxuries of the lives they had before. Many attempted to escape. Most of them died trying. The ones that didn't drown in the frigid waters or get devoured by the aquatic Rahi lurking below the surface were swept right back to where they started by the currents. Others, like Irik and Somav, tried to make the best of it. But they still had problems everywhere. Rahi attack this, food shortage that, leadership problems the other thing. From time to time, there were whispers of Rahkshi dragging off Matoran when they were alone on foraging trips. Even when four Toa arrived, brought to the island by the same currents, it was not enough to solve the village's many internal crises. Even after all this, there were still about one hundred Matoran living there. Despite that, Irik just had to wind up paired with Somav, the only Matoran on the island incapable of taking anything seriously. It was just his luck. But all the same, he enjoyed being around Somav most of the time. Though he would never, ever admit it, he was the only Matoran that Irik considered to be a friend. And besides, if the Ba-Matoran didn't return, Irik would be deemed responsible. And so, he followed Somav's footsteps, walking lightly enough that the snow barely cracked beneath him, and stepped into the hole in the wall. Stepping onto a snow-covered platform, the first thing he noticed was how dark the chamber was. The snow was notably softer inside the cave, and Irik's feet fell through. The Ta-Matoran winced as the icy bite stung his legs, and then he continued onward. Taking another step, Irik stumbled a bit, as in the dark, he had not noticed that he was at the bottom of a staircase, and did not elevate his foot properly. That stumbling was all it took for him to lean against the wall for support, his hand landing on a button. The chamber sparked to life, illuminating, causing Irik to look upward, where he saw light fixtures built into the ceiling, making him squint at the brightness. Now able to properly see, Irik's eyes traced up the stairs. Though snow had not covered the entirety of the stairway, it had covered enough that he knew that Somav had gone this way. Not that there would've been any other way for him to go. Debris had fallen off during the Great Cataclysm and pitted the otherwise smooth ceiling and walls, larger pieces of rubble blocking off any other paths there might have been. He followed the steps, ascending upwards through the thin hallway. Up ahead, he saw Somav's form, standing in place, seemingly staring at something. It would take something very important to get the Matoran of Gravity to stop moving around, so Irik quickened his pace. He rushed towards him, brushing the remaining snow off of him as he ran. Finally, he reached the top of the staircase. Somav turned to greet him, but instead of his usual cheerful demeanor, a grim look came across the Ba-Matoran's black Kanohi Kaukau, which seemed to have turned a shade paler. “Irik?” he said, “I think you should see this.” He turned around again to face whatever object lay before him. Curious, Irik stepped out of the doorway, which abruptly ended at the top of the stairs, and walked to his friend's side. He gasped, and a look of shock crossed his silver Kanohi Tryna. “Somav, is that really...” “Yes, it is.” A block of thick ice lay ahead of them, wedged in between two platforms. The ice was an eerie shade of green, but it was solid, and very cold, so as far as the Matoran could tell, it was most definitely ice. Inside the ice was a figure, more than twice the height of the Matoran. It was clad in strange copper, silver, and yellow armor, looking like it had originated from a small portion of the Southern Island Chains. The verdant ice blurred and obscured the figure, but there was still no mistaking what it was. It was a Toa, frozen into the ice. Chapter One To be written Confirmed Characters *Irik *Somav *Toa Arum *Toa Nyray *Toa Zafiro